


Always Carry On

by patheticfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All Cars Go to Heaven, Canon Rewrite, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Character Death Fix, Dean Dies of Tetanus, Dean Winchester Keeps Miracle the Dog, Dean Winchester Loves Pie, Eileen Leahy Lives, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, F/M, Fix-It, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, Idiots in Love, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Life Montage, M/M, Make It Make Sense, No Beta We Die Like Eileen's Storyline, Rusty Nail - Freeform, Suicidal Dean Winchester, The Canon Ending But Slightly Less Bad, The Empty (Supernatural), The Finale Was So Bad It Drew Me Back Into This Cursed Fandom After Four Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patheticfangirl/pseuds/patheticfangirl
Summary: After fifteen years, Sam and Dean finally have free will. But without Castiel, Dean feels nothing. The Winchesters go on one last hunt to free their friend from the Empty and resolve some feelings that have been unresolved for far too long.Note: I haven’t regularly watched Supernatural since season 11, but I watched the finale and hated it, so here I am. This is what I’d do to get the ending we got, but less irritating.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Always Carry On

_Castiel doesn’t want to be saved_.

In Dean’s mind, Jack’s words played on repeat. Louder than the Led Zeppelin song on the radio. Louder than Miracle’s occasional bark from the backseat. Louder than anything his brother had said in the last ten minutes. 

Dean drove, aimlessly, while Sam continued speaking what may as well have been a soliloquy. Something about Eileen meeting them at the bunker? Dean didn’t care.

“—Dean?”

 _Castiel doesn’t want to be saved_.

“ _DEAN_.”

“Huh?” Dean blinked a few times, refocusing on the road and trying to figure out how far he’d driven. It didn’t work. He had no clue.

“ _Pull over_.”

Dean shook himself back to reality. “Why?”

“You missed three turns in a row and almost drove us into a truck. Pull over. I’m driving.”

Dean steered the Impala onto the shoulder and brought it to an abrupt stop. 

“Like hell you are,” he said.

“Then you’re at least gonna talk to me. I’ve been talking to a brick wall over here.”

Dean rubbed his temples. “I’m tired, Sam. I’ll be fine when I get back to the bunker and get either a good night’s sleep or some coffee and pie. Or all three.”

Sam’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yeah, okay.” He changed his tone and looked directly into his brother’s eyes. “We won, Dean.”

Dean’s reply was as unenthused as a reply could be. “I know. Go us.”

Sam repeated himself. “We _won_. You heard Jack. He brought everyone back. The monsters are gone. We finally get to live real lives. This is huge.”

Dean corrected Sam. “He didn’t bring _everyone_ back.”

“Everyone Chuck killed,” Sam said. “You know what I mean.”

Dean shook his head. “How are we supposed to call this a win when Cas is trapped in the Empty?”

“He’s at peace, Dean. You heard Jack.”

“Yeah. _Castiel doesn’t want to be saved_. That’s bull.”

“Why? Because you can’t understand anyone being content?”

Dean scowled because Sam had a point, but he continued anyway. “Because it’s Cas. How many times has he died or wandered off? He always comes back. He always _wants_ to come back.”

The way Jack had explained it, the Empty was again silent and peaceful. And when he’d gone there to retrieve Castiel, the angel had declined. 

“Jack wouldn’t lie to us,” Sam said.

Dean agreed with that. “I know.”

“But you’re calling him a liar.”

“No. I’m calling _Cas_ a liar,” Dean said.

“I’m confused,” Sam said.

“Just trust me. If Cas told Jack he wants to stay in the Empty, there’s something forcing him to say that. Or it wasn’t really Cas. Or… something. It’s _something_ , okay?”

“Dean…”

“What?” Dean snapped.

Sam couldn’t help but notice the frenzied look on his brother’s face. “Did something happen when the Empty took Cas?”

“Yeah. The Empty _took Cas_.” Deflecting, Dean swung the driver’s side door open and hopped out. “I gotta whiz.” For Miracle, he added a finger point and “stay.”

Sam swung his own door open and joined his brother on the side of the road.

“That’s freakin’ weird,” Dean said. “You don’t follow a man when he’s draining the swamp.”

“No, but you follow your brother when he’s lying to you.”

Dean crossed his arms. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what happened to Cas,” Sam said.

“Exactly what I told you.” Dean swallowed and looked away. 

“You didn’t tell me anything.” Sam reached for his brother’s shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. They were glistening with tears. “ _Dean_.”

Dean brushed him off. “I can’t.” That wasn’t a lie. His throat tightened just at the thought.

“You sat in the bunker for _fourteen hours_. You wouldn’t answer my call. I thought you were dead, or worse.”

Dean deflected again, with sarcasm. “Worse than dead?”

There came a point in every serious Winchester conversation when Dean knew he wasn’t going to get out of sharing his feelings. The glowering look Sam gave him marked that point. 

Dean bit his lip and turned away again. “Cas made a deal with the Empty. If he ever experienced ‘true happiness’ then the shadow would take him. So…” Dean paused and took a breath. He turned back toward Sam, his heart racing. “He told me he loved me, Sam. Like... _Loved me_ loved me. And then it sucked him and Billie in. The end.”

“I’m not sure, I…” Sam tried putting everything together. “You’re not thinking it’s your fault, are you? It sounds like he said his piece and now he’s content.”

Dean squinted. “You’re not surprised by what he said at all?”

“No,” Sam admitted. “And it sounds like he went out on his own terms, so…”

“You’re really gonna make me spell this out for you, huh?” Dean silently cursed his brother for making him put his thoughts into words. “He said I was the one thing he wanted but could never have…” Dean couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice dropped. “Oh.”

Dean wiped his eyes. “Oh what?”

“You’re in love with Cas,” Sam said. 

“That’s…” Dean tried to come up with something convincing, but instead landed on a lying “No.”

“I’ve seen you in love before,” Sam said. “It’s been forever, but yeah. I didn’t put it together because it’s Cas, but…” His memory recalled a decade’s worth of long glances, strangely close touches. They weren’t just on Castiel’s part. He’d seen Dean staring at that angel like he was a piece of pie. “...You _loved him_ loved him.”

Dean broke down at the admission, despite having not admitted anything. "It's my fault."

“It’s not.” Sam roped his brother into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’ve been blathering about seeing Eileen again and planning my life, and I didn’t know...”

“I wasn’t listening,” Dean mumbled into Sam’s shoulder.

Sam didn’t break the hug. 

Dean did. “He's in the Empty because I stood there like an idiot. He told me he loved me and I didn't say anything. I gotta get him back, Sam. If he knew...” Dean avoided saying the part about loving Castiel, and wiped more tears away. “He wouldn’t have chosen to stay there if he knew...”

Sam nodded. “Okay. We’ll get him back.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

“Cas is my friend. You’re my brother. If you think I’m not going to help you both find happiness, you don’t know me.”

Dean actually smiled. “One last hunt?"

“One last hunt,” Sam replied.

***

A few hours later, the Winchesters were walking through a corn field carrying duffel bags full of spellcasting supplies. Dean had been preparing for this spell since the first time Castiel went to the Empty. It was reckless, dangerous, and he was lucky he never had to use it. But he did now. He powered forward.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Sam said from behind. 

Dean scoffed. “I’m still figuring this out, Sam.”

“So were you ever with another—”

“Another angel? Yes,” Dean said.

“You know what I meant.”

“I said what I said,” Dean groaned. He was uncomfortable enough that he had to tell Sam about any of this at all. He certainly wasn’t going to do a deep dive on every person or creature he’d ever been attracted to. He silently cursed Cas for ever saying anything instead of keeping his feelings repressed where they belonged.

“So what was your plan? Be in love with Cas and just never tell him?”

“I didn’t have a plan.” Dean, annoyed by Sam’s prodding, stopped walking and turned to his brother. “Look. I thought it was stupid. I thought _I_ was stupid. I figured I was feeling some cosmic mojo and it was a mistake. Because what would a celestial being want with me?”

“The same thing you’d want with a celestial being, apparently.”

“It’s... still stupid,” Dean corrected. “I’ve got what? Forty years left?”

“If we’re being generous,” Sam said.

“Yeah, well. When we get him out, Cas has a billion.”

Sam shook his head. “Are you already convincing yourself how this is gonna go wrong?”

Dean gave an affirmative shrug and resumed walking.

“You know…” Sam started.

Dean braced himself for Sam annoying him.

“...If this works out, you can say God is your father-in-law.”

“Shut up.”

Finally, they arrived at their destination. 

“A barn?” Sam wondered. It was a ramshackle one, at that. 

“This is where Cas and I first met,” Dean said. He quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Sam could see his brother struggling, so he joked. “You mean, other than in Hell?”

Dean rolled his watery eyes. “Yeah, other than in Hell. The summoning spell's supposed to work better if it's a place significant to him. I'm just hoping this is one."

"If I know Cas, it is,” Sam said.

As they entered the barn, Dean stepped around a loose pile of rocks, only to nearly step on a board with an exposed nail. He kicked the board aside.

“Watch your step, Sam. It’s one OSHA violation after another in here.”

Sam eyed some chains hanging from the ceiling, and pieces of rebar jutting out from the wall and floor. “You’re not kidding.”

The brothers posted up and spent the next hour getting things just right. Circle of archaic symbols scratched into the dirt? Check. Vial of Jack’s blood ready to be smashed in the center of it? Check. Castiel’s old trenchcoat to tune the spell to him? Check. Ominously large leather-bound book containing the spell? Check. A spare vial of blood and some handwritten notes in their pockets for the return trip? Check.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

“I think so.”

They took their places inside the circle. Sam was better at reading spells, so he began.

_Daraga Diqata_

_Hilma Hshukha_

_Alma Andashta_

_Ginzia Ginzia_

_Malaka Castiel_

Dean was better at breaking things, so as Sam finished the last word, Dean smashed the vial. 

From above came a whooshing sound. Dean caught a brief glimpse of black, swirling tendrils—the same ones that had taken Cas—and shut his eyes. There was a cold, surprisingly metallic touch on his exposed arm and within seconds he felt himself become engulfed.

Then… Nothing. The Empty truly was empty. Vast blackness in every direction. Sam and Dean stood on nothing, looking at nothing, bracing themselves for a fight. None came. Human beings were so utterly insignificant to the Empty that it didn’t even register their presence. 

Their eyes scanned the emptiness, then met.

"How are we supposed to find anything in here?" Sam wondered.

Dean didn’t have a plan, but he started to answer. “Well—”

 _SCREEEEECH_. Sam and Dean put their hands over their ears to muffle a terrible sound. 

In the blink of an eye, everything went bright again. The screeching sound disappeared, and the brothers stood in what looked like a park. It was as vast as the emptiness, but full of trees and grassy knolls. But park sounds were eerily absent. There was no life. No birds. No polite chatter. Just stone paths winding as far as their eyes could see in every direction, intersecting at random.

Faintly, in the background of everything, they could hear Dean’s voice in place of nature. Not this Dean, but another Dean.

 _Who are you_?

Then Castiel’s voice, unmistakeable.

 _I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition_.

The voices didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere. Sam and Dean faced each other, confused, where three paths met.

“Any guesses what the hell is going on here?” Dean asked.

“No idea,” Sam said.

_I was getting too close to humans in my charge. You._

They started down the stone path. Any direction was as good as any other, so they just picked one. As they walked, the Winchesters noticed that even their footsteps didn’t make a sound.

“This is creepy as hell,” Dean said.

From the environment itself, the voices continued. 

_Maybe you could fight the mark for years. Maybe centuries, like Cain did._ _But you can't fight it forever._

_And when you turn, and you will turn... Sam, and everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead._

_Everyone except me. I'm the only one who will have to watch you murder the world._

_So if there's even a small chance that we can save you, I won't let you out of this room._

“I’m gonna take a guess these are yours and Cas’s greatest hits?” Sam wondered.

_The plan changed, Dean. Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong._

_Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?_

Dean grimaced. “Not hits. Just... us.”

_You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt. Now you can barely look at me._

_M_ _y powers are failing, and I've tried to talk to you over and over, and you just don't want to hear it._

_You don't care. I'm dead to you._

“Are we in Cas’s personal Empty?” Sam wondered.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work, but maybe?” 

“You said you did your research.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not you, am I?” Dean cupped his hands around his mouth for volume and shouted out into the park. “CAS?”

Sam followed suit. “CAS?”

_Cas, I don’t know if you can hear me, but... I need help. I, uh... I don’t want to live anymore._

_I think I did once... And I know I should. I should want something. Anything. But I just don’t._

“Sam? I’m gonna need you to just tune out any prayers I may or may not have made to Cas...”

“I’m trying,” Sam said. He meant it. The situation felt really intrusive.

“Good.” Dean faked a smile, then turned and continued calling out “CAS?”

_I drink and I don’t even like it, but I keep doing it. I don’t care when we defeat something._

_I_ _go to bars and I pick up girls, and I don’t care. It doesn’t mean anything. Nothing... means anything._

Sam and Dean kept walking. “CAS?”

_I don’t know why I’m talking to you. You’re gone. But Cas, I... I was thinking about something my dad said, and I just..._

_I gotta know why I’m here. It can’t just be this. If you’re out there anywhere, please... I just... I don’t know._

_I_ _need something. Anything. I’m so tired..._

Sam started to give his brother a sad look, but turned his head so Dean wouldn’t catch him. “CAS?”

Dean shouted at nothing. “Cas, are you gonna show up or just keep playing this record to death?”

_I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you._

_You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're daddy's blunt instrument._

Dean swallowed. Just as the world around them recounted Castiel’s last words to him, Dean saw something in the distance. A bench, overlooking a lake. And a figure sitting in it? He tapped Sam’s shoulder and hurried toward it. 

_You think that hate and anger, that's what drives you, that's what you are. It's not._

_A_ _nd everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love._

Before he knew it, Dean was sprinting ahead. “CAS?”

Sam lagged a few feet behind, calling out just the same.

_You raised your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are._

_You're the most caring man on earth, you are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know._

Dean reached the bench. “Cas?”

The figure was unmistakable, but it didn’t reply. Castiel sat, watching silent waves in a silent lake.

_Ever since we met, and ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me._

_Because you cared, I cared. I care about you. I cared about Sam and about Jack, but I cared about the whole world because of you._

_You changed me, Dean._

“Cas?” Dean tapped his shoulder.

Sam caught up. “What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said.

_I love you._

Sam pondered. “So angels go to the Empty and they sleep… Are we in Cas’s dream? Is that a thing we can be in?”

“I don’t know.” Dean, getting an idea, squinted. He knelt down next to Castiel and put a hand on each of his shoulders. A gentle shake. “Cas. You gotta wake up.”

The world around them flickered between the park and total darkness, but returned to the park. That seemed to answer Sam’s question in the affirmative.

“Okay…” Sam muttered.

Dean continued. “I’m _here_. Sam and I are in the Empty. We’re here to get _you_. Wake up.”

The flickering intensified, but again returned to the park and the bench. Dean’s eyes watered as he stared at dream Castiel’s blank expression, with eyes that had none of their signature compassion.

“Please wake up, Cas. I love you.”

Dean didn’t mean to let those words out, but they came anyway. 

The dreamscape immediately gave way to total blackness. Sam and Dean again stood in the Empty, and Castiel stood facing them. 

“Dean?” Castiel asked. Not to be rude, he added, “Sam?”

Sam nodded. “Hi, Cas.” He then took a step back to let his brother and the angel have their moment. 

“I’m fine here,” Castiel said. “You shouldn’t have come.”

Castiel had registered Dean’s words, and they’d been enough to wake him. But he hadn’t understood the intent behind them.

“You don’t think you deserve to be saved?” Dean stepped in closer. “I’m here about what you said before this thing took you...”

Castiel assumed that Dean wanted clarification. He blushed with embarrassment, but told the truth. “I meant it with romantic intent.”

Dean stepped even closer, to where their faces almost touched. “I know, you doofus.”

“So what are you saying—?”

Dean answered by shutting him up with a long, passionate kiss. Self-loathing and doubt weren’t welcome at this moment. Just love. Life-altering, universe-saving love. Dean’s whole body warmed with it.

Sam snorted a happy little laugh. 

Dean pulled away and looked into Castiel’s eyes, which were again filled with life. “I’m saying you were wrong about what you can never have. You can have me. You...already have me. I love you. I, uh...I’m kind of making this up as I go along. I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you. I just do. And I want you to come home.”

Castiel smiled. “Of course. I’m guessing you know a way out?”

“I think so.”

Sam repeated the spell from before, Dean slammed down another vial of blood, and a rift in the empty opened before their eyes. Through it, all three could see the dilapidated barn.

“Dean.” Castiel hated to break bad news. “I can’t pass through that barrier.”

“What? Why not?” 

“It’s a spell that allows humans to come and go from here,” Castiel said. “You two should go, and I’ll figure my own way out.”

Dean shook his head. “No. We’re leaving together.”

The shadow that controlled the Empty did not like commotion. Nearby, the blackness began swirling upward into a vortex, until it took the shape of a towering, faceless human. 

“Why can’t I rest?” The shadow hissed at Castiel. “ _You again_.” Then it turned its attention to the Winchesters. “You don’t belong here.” 

“Yeah? Neither does he,” Dean said.

Castiel began to correct him. “Well, actually—”

“Shut up,” the shadow said. “Are you trying to renege on our deal, Castiel?”

“Yes. Wholeheartedly.”

The shadow moved within inches of his face. “Go to sleep.”

“I don’t think so.” Castiel shook his head. “You’re going to let me leave.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’ll leave you my grace,” Castiel said.

The shadow scoffed. “There’s not much of that left.”

Castiel glowered. “There’s enough. You didn’t notice that two humans arrived here until I woke up. What’s left of me after my grace is worth nothing to you.”

“I’ve made deals with you before, Castiel,” the shadow said.

“If you make this one, you’ll never have to again,” Castiel said. “I’ll be human. I’ll live and I’ll die. When it’s over, I’ll either be in Heaven or in Hell. You’ll never hear from me again. Or... you can keep me here and I’ll keep you awake for eternity.”

“Cas, are you sure you wanna do this?” Dean asked.

Castiel stepped in close to Dean and looked into his eyes. “For millennia, I was a tool of God. I got to choose _nothing_. You’re the only thing I have ever chosen, Dean, and I choose you without hesitation. To live and die with you would be apotheosis to me.”

Dean searched his vocabulary. “A pot of what? Cas, you gotta cool it with old testament talk...”

“Shut up,” the shadow said. “All of you. I accept your deal. Just get out.”

The shadow’s tendrils pulled a glowing strand from Castiel’s body. It only took a moment. Before the three could even register that they were moving, the Empty had tossed them back out into the barn. It was night, and it was cold. _Cold_. Something Castiel hadn’t felt in some time. He and Sam landed on opposite ends of the barn with a thud.

“Ow,” Sam complained, rubbing his side. “What a dick.”

Dean didn’t get such a graceful landing. When he let out a groan of pain, Castiel turned to find him lying on the ground with a piece of rebar jutting out of his chest. Dean’s hands fumbled at it as he registered what happened.

Sam noticed, and he shouted from across the barn. “Dean!?”

Castiel rushed toward his injured love. “Sam, call for help.”

Sam, already heading toward them, pulled out his phone and dialed 911.

While Sam made the call, Castiel instinctively put his hand on Dean’s chest. He was human now, and they both knew it, but he felt he owed Dean an explanation anyway.

“I can’t heal you,” he said sadly. 

Dean’s voice was soft and raspy as he struggled to breathe. “It’s okay.” He reached a hand up to Cas’s and their fingers became entwined.

If their positions were reversed, Dean would have had some choice words for their situation and the utter unfairness of it. But Castiel understood it. Help would either arrive on time, or it wouldn’t. It was out of his hands. Unsure of what to say, he rambled a little. “Apotheosis is... I was trying to say that... I feel more divine with you than I ever did in heaven, Dean.”

Dean almost smiled before he choked out the words “stay with me, Cas.”

Castiel obliged. Of course he did.

Sam dropped to the ground next to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. “An ambulance is on its way. You’re gonna make it.”

Dean was ghostly pale now. “I don’t think so, Sammy.” 

“Just focus on breathing,” Sam said. 

Dean’s mind wanted to reply with something sassy, but his mouth could only gasp.

The entwined hands became more and more soaked with blood. Time moved so slowly for Castiel now. But there was no point in articulating what he was feeling. He did what he could do: let Dean feel his presence and know that he was loved. He simply kept one hand with Dean’s, and used the other to stroke the side of his face. It was _cold_. 

“Hang on. Just hang on.” Sam had begun crying. He’d seen his brother die before—hundreds of times, actually—so he knew what was happening. It couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t let someone who had sacrificed everything for him time and time again die. Not now. Not when they had finally gotten real freedom. He grabbed Dean’s free hand with both of his own.

For Dean, each breath was a greater struggle. With Castiel to his left and Sam to his right, he spoke to both of them. “I love you.”

In the distance, there was a siren.

Sam raised his voice and shook his brother’s arm a little. “ _Don’t leave me. Just hang on, Dean_.”

Dean tried. With each hand held by someone he loved, he imagined a hundred futures at once. Things to look forward to. Introducing Cas to Miracle. The dinner the three of them would have with Eileen when they got back to the bunker. Teaching Cas how to make pie. Getting his hands on every inch of Cas’s body. Having a normal job...maybe a mechanic...and coming home every day to the love of his life. Being Sam’s Best Man. Uncle Dean and Uncle Cas absolutely ruining Sam’s kids with pie and pranks.

Dean tried to stay, but it wasn’t up to willpower. He could see the end, so he said what he needed to. “You’re… gonna be okay… Take care of each other.”

The siren came closer and closer, but not close enough. Its sound faded, along with every other sound.

“Dean?”

“ _Dean_?”

Dean Winchester died with the two people he loved most.

Sam and Castiel were left sitting on the ground in shock. 

“What do we do?” Sam asked.

Castiel was silent.

Sam stood up and made demands of the sky. “Jack. Jack! Where are you?”

“Being hands-off,” Castiel said. He stared at Dean’s body. “Like we taught him.”

“Then what are we gonna do? Resurrection spell?”

Castiel stared at his blood-soaked hand. “Nothing. There’s nothing to do.”

“How can you say that? How can you, _of all people_ , say that?”

Castiel stood up. “Because this is what we fought for. Free will. Life was never meant to be the way it has been the last few years.”

Sam was hurting, and it made him hurtful. “Wow. Guess he really meant a lot to you, then.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Don’t mistake my calmness for indifference, Sam. I lived for four hundred million years before I met your brother. I gave everything for the _chance_ of having a life with him. He would be here now if I hadn’t been too prideful to let Jack resurrect me before. I’m hurting more than you understand.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. 

Castiel looked down at Dean. “So am I.”

They hugged in shared misery as the ambulance arrived to carry Dean away.

***

This time, there was a proper funeral. Unlike so many losses in their lives, which had been surrounded by chaos and cosmic threats, this one took place in a world with no monsters. The days before were calm, as would be the days after.

Everyone showed up. Eileen, Jody, Donna, Charlie, Garth and his children... In all, there were probably a hundred hunters, some of whom the Winchesters had only met once. But Dean had made an impact on all of them. 

There was no reason they needed to burn the body, but Sam assumed that Dean would want a hunter’s funeral and Castiel was utterly indifferent because it wasn’t Dean anymore.

When Dean’s body had burned, Sam mingled.

Castiel, meanwhile, stood awkwardly under a tree, observing. To most of the people in attendance, he was just some hunter standing around. To most of the people who knew him, he was an angel and would flutter away any moment. Eileen was the only one who knew enough to walk over to him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she signed.

“Thank you.”

***

One moment, Dean was on the floor of a barn gasping for breath. The next, he stood outside Harvelle’s Roadhouse. He tapped at his chest, searching for the rebar. Nothing. He was healed.

He circled around and called out. “Cas? Sam?”

“How’d I know you’d be the first one here?” a voice wondered from the porch.

Dean squinted. “Bobby?” 

Bobby stood and walked down the stairs toward Dean.

“What’s going on? Where are Sam and Cas?” Dean asked. 

“Well, I don’t quite know the deal with angels, but I’m guessing Sam’s alive. As for you... You’re in Heaven, Dean.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Heaven’s a mess.”

“Not anymore. That Cas-looking fella fixed it up.”

“Jack,” Dean corrected.

“Yeah. Him,” Bobby said.

“So you’re Bobby Bobby... Not like... Imaginary Bobby?”

“Bingo. The souls can interact now. Can even get into fights with one another if they’re so inclined. I’ve seen a few scraps between first, second, and third spouses about who gets what...Turns out liquor works just the same here.”

Dean chuckled.

“No killin, though. It’s as peaceful as you make it.”

Dean eyed the building. “Who all’s inside?”

“Right now? Ellen and Jo. Ash. Rufus. A few random folks traveling through.”

“There’s _travel_?” Dean wondered.

“Why shouldn’t there be?” Bobby asked. “You wanna go to a beach, go to a beach.”

Dean swallowed. “How about my mom and...?”

“Your folks are around. They don’t live too far from here. I don’t know they’ll be thrilled seeing you get here so soon, but they’ll surely wanna see you.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna just... walk around for a little bit.”

***

For the first few years after Dean’s death, Cas, Sam, and Eileen lived in the bunker. 

Eileen got a job teaching at a school for the Deaf.

Sam went back to law school to become a public defender. But first, he helped get Jimmy Novak declared legally alive and change his name. 

Castiel Novak Winchester enrolled at a nearby community college, unsure of what he was going to do yet. He just knew that whatever it was, he would help people.

***

In Heaven, Dean was uncomfortable. He wanted to see everyone in the roadhouse, for sure, but he wasn’t sure that he could. A Greatest Hits compilation of people who died because of him? Awful. And then there were his parents. He thought he should visit them first, but also thought about what questions John would have and how the hell he was going to answer them without mentioning Cas. And why shouldn’t he mention Cas? 

Dean decided to just drive around for a little while and get a feel for the place. He pictured Baby in his mind, and the car appeared in front of him, perfect as ever.

“Nice,” Dean said to no one.

He hopped in and started the engine. The radio was playing “Carry on Wayward Son.”

Dean scoffed. “Peace when you’re done, my ass.”

***

Some months later, Sam and Eileen approached Castiel about their impending son. 

“We want to get your blessing for something,” Sam said.

“For what?” Castiel wondered.

“We were thinking of naming him Dean.”

“That’s not my decision.”

“I know, but we don’t want to do it if it’s going to hurt you.”

“Then I’d prefer you didn’t.” There was only one Dean Winchester, and another would be a grim reminder of what he’d lost.

***

At some point, Dean drove to his parents’ house. John was away, as he had been for most of Dean’s life. Mary handed her son a cup of coffee and they sat in the kitchen talking, for hours, about what they’d been up to since they’d last seen each other. Soon, this became a regular occurrence, and it felt good. 

Until one day, John was home. Dean didn’t know how the topic of conversation got where it did, but one moment he was fine and the next he felt like he was dying all over again.

“Your mom says you’re waiting for someone named Cass,” John said.

“Cas was an angel.”

“I’ll bet,” John said. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Yeah, uh... that’s not gonna happen.” 

“Excuse me?” John was put off.

Dean spoke his thought process aloud. “The whole point of Heaven is you get to choose, right? That I deserve to be happy...”

“You can’t choose your family,” John said.

“Yeah you can,” Dean corrected. “Look. I forgive you for the way Sam and I grew up. I really do. But that doesn’t mean I want a relationship with you now. That’s not Heaven to me.”

John scowled. “Really, son?”

“Really.” Dean remembered something Castiel had said. _Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it._ So Dean said it. “‘Cass’ is Castiel. He was literally an angel. And I love him.” 

From then on, when Dean went to visit Mary, his father was always away. He didn’t know whether it was John’s doing or support from Jack’s angels, but either way it was a relief.

For when he wasn’t away, Dean imagined a home for himself, and it became reality. It was small, with just enough room for two, but for someone who spent half his life living out of shady motel rooms, it was perfect. One day, while he sat on the porch drinking a beer, he heard panting in the distance. Then he saw a furry figure scampering up the road. Within moments, he was bent down hugging Miracle and scratching his ears. “Good boy. You’re home now.”

***

Five years to the day after Dean’s death, Sam heard glass shattering in Castiel’s room. He heard shouting. Eileen saw the fear on little Bobby and Maura’s faces. 

“He’s scaring them,” Eileen signed.

“You keep an eye on them. I’ll talk to him.” Sam motioned toward the room.

Eileen nodded.

The bedroom looked like a war zone. Every table had been overturned. Every book, vase, and picture frame thrown to the ground. Sam stepped over a cracked frame holding a photo of himself, Dean, Cas, and Jack. Team Free Will. 

“Cas?” Sam wondered.

Castiel sat in the corner of the room on the floor, his head buried in his hands.

Sam stepped toward him. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Castiel looked up with swollen, red eyes and tears streaming down his face. “I can’t stop crying. My chest is tight. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Sam sat down on the floor next to him. 

Castiel turned to him. “Am I dying, Sam?” His voice cracked as he followed that with, “Is this how Dean felt in that barn?”

“You’re not dying, Cas. You’re grieving.”

“I don’t understand. It’s been five years. Why now?”

“Because sometimes it takes a while to hit. Because grief isn’t something that just happens and you get over. It comes and goes. Sometimes you’ll be fine for years until one day you can’t even get out of bed because it’s so overwhelming.” At that point, Sam was talking about himself. “All you can do is carry on.” 

“I don’t want to,” Castiel said.

Sam exhaled. “You sound just like Dean.”

“Well how do I fix it? What would Dean do?”

“Honestly?” Sam said. “He’d pray to you.”

The more human Castiel became, the better he got at sarcasm. “Yes, and that was clearly effective.” 

Sam shrugged. “I think it helped.”

“I’ve prayed to Jack,” Castiel said. “So far, he’s been true to his word.”

“You mean he never responds?”

“Right.”

“Well... if you’re gonna pray and not get a response, maybe it should be to someone you need to talk to?” 

Castiel considered that.

That night, he did something he hadn’t in what felt like an eternity. He knelt beside his bed, clasped his hands, and closed his eyes. “Dean. I know you’re not an angel or God and that you most likely can’t hear me. But if by some chance you can, I want you to know that I’m trying. I’m trying to live a life you’d be proud of me for. Life... human life... is... not easy. I just wish you were here to help me.”

From then on, he prayed nightly.

***

Sometimes, when he was playing fetch with Miracle or developing a new recipe in his kitchen, Dean felt a sudden warmth in his chest. The same feeling he had when he kissed Castiel in the Empty. He chalked it up to sentiment.

***

Castiel had possibly the strangest bedside manner of any registered nurse, but there was something hospice patients found reassuring about him. For those who were religious, he shared stories of his faith (modified, of course). For those who weren’t, he provided simple comfort.

Sam, Eileen, and their kids moved out of the bunker and into a farmhouse a few miles down the road. Castiel needed the bunker space for another purpose: fostering as many children as he could. He’d known what it was like to live with no guidance, and what Dean went through with abuse and neglect. So he filled the bunker with wayward sons and daughters and showed them all the love he could.

There were no things to hunt, so it was this. Saving people. The family business.

***

Time didn’t make any sense in Heaven, but eventually enough of it passed that Dean was ready to face his friends in the Roadhouse. When he did, he discovered that none of them had held a grudge. There were no grudges to hold, since they’d all made it here. 

Dean mingled. He caught up with Ellen, Joe, Ash, Rufus, their original Charlie… It was nice. It was something Dean needed to heal. But it wasn’t Heaven. After a while, he’d had enough. 

“Nothing against any of you, but this place isn’t paradise for me yet.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and walked out the door. On the way, he turned to Bobby. “I’m gonna go home and rest. Let me know when Cas or Sam gets here.”

“Oh, you’ll be the first to know,” Bobby said.

***

Once, one of his foster children asked Castiel why he’d never been married. 

“I’ve never even seen you go on a date,” she added.

“My past is... complicated,” Castiel said. “And I lost the only person who could understand it. To be with anyone else would be to maintain a charade.”

“Ooh, were you a criminal or something?”

Castiel smiled. “Something like that.”

***

Years passed, and Sam and Eileen worked and retired. They went on vacations and bought tacky souvenir shot glasses. They became grandparents. In a movie, their lives together would have made for a beautiful montage.

***

When Castiel’s body was eighty years old, it finally gave out. His death came swiftly and peacefully in his sleep, and hundreds came to his funeral.

He awoke in a cornfield, cognizant of where he was. It was Heaven. A few yards ahead of him stood a familiar face, holding a glass of scotch in one hand and its bottle in the other.

Castiel was puzzled. “Balthazar? You should be in the Empty.”

“So should you,” Balthazar said. He took a sip. “To be fair.”

“Yes, but you’re still an angel.”

Balthazar shrugged. “Are you going to nitpick all day? I’m your guide, love.”

“I don’t need a guide.”

“Maybe. Everyone gets one, though, so here.” He handed Castiel his half-full glass, while he took a swig from the bottle. 

“But why?” Castiel’s voice came out pained. “I killed you.”

“Oh, don’t be so serious. I got better, didn’t I? Get over it. Heaven knows I have.”

Castiel needed to hear that, and it helped him. He also needed an answer to one question.

“Where’s Dean?”

***

In his own piece of Heaven, Dean awoke from a long rest to a knock at his door. He rubbed his eyes, swept a hand through his hair, and wandered over, still in pajamas. 

When he opened the door, he froze. 

There on his porch stood Castiel, just as he remembered him, trenchcoat and all. Castiel looked up into Dean’s eyes.

“Cas?” Dean reached out and pulled him into an embrace. 

From his shoulder came a muffled, “Hello, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was despondent, and up close, Dean noticed that his blue eyes were surrounded by red.

“You seem awfully sad for someone who just got to paradise.” 

“It’s... been a long time,” Castiel said, pulling away.

“How long?”

“Forty years.” He tilted his head. “How long has it been for you?”

“I don’t know. I went to bed and woke up and you were here.”

“That’s Heaven for you,” Castiel said. Miracle scampered over and nuzzled his leg, so Castiel looked down at him. “Good dog.”

Then Castiel did what he was best at. He stood there, awkwardly, unsure how to proceed. This was their happy ending, but he wasn’t sure he’d earned it. Part of him expected the curtain to fall back and reveal he was in Hell. Dean took a step toward him, and Castiel took a step back. He stared intently at Dean, looking for some sign that anything was amiss. 

Dean was concerned. “Cas, you’ve always been a little weird, but what the hell?”

“I’m... not sure I deserve this,” Castiel said.

“Yeah?” Dean wondered.

“...Yeah.”

“Well, I’m sure,” Dean said, roping him back in.

That was enough to break Castiel. He threw his arms around Dean and rambled. “I missed you. I did my best, but I missed you every day. I missed you such much I prayed to you.”

“It’s okay.” Dean squeezed him tight, feeling his warmth. “You’ve got me now. You’ve got me forever.”

They stood there, holding on for as long as they wanted.

***

It wasn’t long before Castiel had settled into his new home. And it wasn’t long after that when Dean decided to teach him how to bake a pie. 

Castiel stood in a flour-covered apron, bewildered, trying and failing to crimp edges. That Dean stood behind him, with his arms wrapped around his waist, only made Castiel more flustered.

“You gotta push toward the outside,” Dean said. He gave Castiel a quick peck on the cheek.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

Dean eyed the crust. “I don’t think so… but you have eternity to figure it out.”

Before the pie could go in the oven, a loud _SCREEEECH_ filled Dean’s head. It hadn’t happened very often, but he recognized it as an incoming message from an angel. Sam was on his way, and he needed a guide. He pulled away from Castiel and turned toward the door. 

Castiel, dusting off his hands, turned to look at him.

“Sam?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

Castiel untied his apron. He didn’t have to say anything to let Dean know he was coming with him. They rushed out the door and hopped into the Impala. They did that a lot, usually to cruise nowhere and enjoy each other’s company. Their drives hadn’t had an urgent purpose since they were on Earth together, and it showed in how fast Dean drove. 

Some anonymous angel told him where to go. The destination was a bridge that looked familiar, but Dean couldn’t place it. Until he saw Sam standing there, a shadowy, freakishly tall figure in the middle of the bridge, staring down off the edge. It was from a case. The first case that took Sam away from Stanford and led him on a fifteen year journey with his brother. 

Dean put Baby in park.

“I’ll wait here,” Castiel said.

Dean kissed him on his way out the door. “I’ll give you a signal.”

Dean approached slowly, forcing himself to remain calm for his brother’s sake. Entering Heaven was a frightening event, and he didn’t want to make it any more frightening.

“Hey, Sammy.”

Sam turned around and smiled, looking exactly as Dean remembered him. “Dean.”

“Tell me you didn’t die on a rusty nail,” Dean said.

Sam shook his head, amused. “I’m pretty sure I was asleep.”

“Good.”

The brothers came together for a big hug. While they embraced, Dean gave the Impala a slight wave.

“So… Is this Heaven or Hell?” Sam asked.

Dean pulled away from the hug. “You think I’d go to Hell? I’m hurt.”

“Well, you _did_. Speaking of...” Sam saw his friend coming. “Cas?”

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. He and Castiel had grown old, together. “You’re so young.”

“I’m technically older than ever,” Castiel said. 

“I know,” Sam said. “I mean...”

Castiel chuckled. “I know what you meant.”

They hugged.

When they pulled apart, Sam stared longingly toward the end of the bridge.

“Eileen will be along shortly,” Castiel said.

“Then what?” Sam asked.

“Then we all carry on,” Dean said.


End file.
